


yours for the night

by blondeslytherin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Masquerade, Slow Dancing, Smut, Soft feelings, Soft sex, Some Humor, Top Keith (Voltron), Unhappy Ending, the warning is kind of a spoiler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 16:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondeslytherin/pseuds/blondeslytherin
Summary: It's a masquerade this time. Keith always knows how this ends up: always a different setting, but they always meet. Just for a night, he's Lance's. And in the morning, he's gone.~~~“It’s not fair,” Keith whispered, avoiding Lance’s gaze and trying desperately not to cry. “It’s not fucking fair.”Lance squeezed him with his full body. “I know, love. None of this is fair.”They swayed in silence for a moment, both unable to speak around the hurt they each carried. “But we’re here now. And we’ve got tonight. So let’s not waste it on the sorrows of tomorrow, love.”





	yours for the night

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really have a lot to say for this one. This is kinda different from anything that I normally write, but all I can say is that I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> (oh, and as of 12/8/18, this isn't beta read, but you should still go check out @Softe_Gays)

Keith tugged at his tie as he walked down the hallway, wondering what situation Lance could have possibly put them in this time. It wasn’t often that Keith got dressed up like this, and he was almost concerned about what he was going to stumble into.

He stopped as he passed by his reflection in a nearby mirror. It was situated above a chest of drawers, a small lamp casting shadows over everything. Keith glanced in it, smoothing back his hair with one hand while the other tugged at his tie. There were fresh scars on his hands; Lance wouldn’t be happy about that. He was always so concerned when he saw Keith getting hurt.

“Dumbass,” Keith muttered to himself in the mirror, unsure if he was referring to himself or to Lance.

He kept going, down the long and elegant hallway, mainly cast in shadows, intermittently broken up by the occasional gilded lamp. God, when would this hallway end? He didn’t need to glance at the watch on his wrist to know he was wasting time.

Precious, precious time.

The music finally reached his ears, and he quickened his pace. Loud, classical music was echoing out to where he was, and Keith faltered in his step. Lance wouldn’t…

Lance would in fact. Keith swore low when he rounded the corner, the open double doors of a ballroom spread wide to allow for easy entrance—and easy exit.

This time, he did glance down at his watch. He had tried to get here as fast as he could, but there were only so many things he had control over. Time, it had been found, was not one of them.

For a moment, all he did was watch, still hidden in the shadows. Girls in elegant ballgowns twirled around on the arms of men in crisp tuxedoes. There was laughter everywhere, and more than one peacock feather was spotted on someone’s brow.

Lance had brought him to a fucking masquerade ball.

He really shouldn’t have expected anything else from Lance—he always had a flare for the romantic period dramas—but this was more than Keith could handle.

The music carried over to him, rising into a crescendo as it swelled and then gently fell into a conclusion. People stopped in their dancing to clap. Now would be the perfect time to enter unnoticed.

Swearing at Lance one final time for his choice of venue, Keith slipped a plain black mask over his face, covering one half while leaving the other exposed, phantom of the opera-esque. A small smile graced his lips as he ran a finger down it, thinking about when Lance had shown him that movie, how he had bounced in his seat and his eyes had shone when they watched it. Keith still remembers the way Lance’s voice sounded when he sang all of Christine’s parts.

His chest constricts painfully as he makes his way inside, blinking forcefully. This was going to be a good night. It had to be.

The music had picked up, as did the dancing couples. Keith spotted more than one guy dancing with another, but a fair few lingered on the side lines, likely waiting for their partners to show up.

Keith lingered on the side lines, checking each and every face for any sign that Lance might be the one lurking under that mask. Fucking Lance, making them come to a masquerade ball. Keith didn’t even like dancing.

_Oh, but you like dancing with me._

The words sent a shiver down his spine as he pictured Lance saying them. It had been after another painful mission, and all Keith wanted to do was relax, but Lance had insisted. In order to convince Keith, Lance had bent down and whispered those words into his ear, sounding far dirtier than words ever should.

Keith had been a sucker for him ever since.

A girl with silver hair piled high swept past him, on the arm of a tall, muscular gentleman, sporting a goatee of the same color. They made a perfect couple, and Keith watched them for a moment. She looked strikingly like Allura, if Allura had been a bit older and perhaps a bit softer. But Allura wouldn’t be here; it wasn’t her place.

They twirled away, and Keith was shocked back into what he was really supposed to be doing. He considered prowling along the side lines, but the likelihood of Lance being there was next to none. That boy was born for dancing, and that’s just what he’ll do.

It was another full song before Keith began to panic. He didn’t have forever to spend looking for Lance, as much as he wished it was possible. He had to be here somewhere.

A flash of blue caught his eye, but it was gone just as quickly. All the same, it was the closest thing he had had so far to Lance, and he set off into the crowd to look for it.

That was a mistake.

Immediately, he was swept into the arms of a girl in a large yellow dress, and she pulled him into a waltz with her. She didn’t appear to be much older than he was, even though a white mask covered much of her face.

There was no fighting her grip as she led them around, and Keith huffed in annoyance. He had to find Lance. The music built and she twirled away from him and into the arms of another, as a second girl appeared in front of him, grabbing his hands before he had a chance to duck away.

The cycle just seemed to continue. Every time he tried to break away, someone else was right there, speaking no words but dancing with him all the same.

A third song ended, and a musician announced that they’d be taking a break. The girl he had been dancing with took a step back and sank into a small curtsey, before drifting away to the food spread.

Keith turned on his heel, huffing, worried that he might never find Lance in all of this crowd. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he missed the person in front of him and collided straight into them.

“Sorry,” he grit out, the collision only adding to his frustration. He was about to push past the unfortunate individual when two hands circled around his wrists, tugging him to a halt.

“Going somewhere?” a smooth voice asked, and Keith’s heart stuttered as the rest of him went warm.

He stepped back until he could look up into the face of the stranger, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said, only after he was fairly certain he wouldn’t squeak out his words.

Because here was Lance, in a perfectly trimmed black suit, paired with a navy tie and a mask to match. Like Keith’s, it only covered half his face, but unlike Keith’s, it covered the opposite half.

Two halves to make a whole.

“Well don’t you look good,” Lance replied, raking his eyes up and down Keith. Keith fought a rising blush. They had been together for quite some time, but any time Lance spoke to him like this never failed to get the blood rushing to his cheeks.

“You picked it out,” he replied, voice dropping to a whisper as Lance stepped closer and brought Keith’s hands up to his chest, running each thumb over the backs of his hands.

“You still look good,” Lance replied, matching his tone. They were nearly nose to nose on the near empty ballroom dancefloor, utterly exposed to every other guest here. But Keith couldn’t find it in himself to care, because here was Lance.

Here was Lance.

“I’ve missed you,” Keith said gently, watching the way Lance’s face trembled for half a second before he got it composed again.

“You’re one for the soft sentiments tonight, aren’t you,” Lance said, and Keith felt his chest deflate.

“Lance, please don’t do this—”

“We’re here to dance, Keith, so let’s dance.”

As if the orchestra had heard his words, the music picked back up again, and without leaving him room to protest, Lance had swept Keith into a dance.

It was nothing like his dance with any of the other girls he had gotten trapped with tonight. Lance danced like he fought: with power and focused intensity.

Every step was calculated. Every brush of his hand against Keith’s was purposeful. Every single move was planned.

And Keith met him step for step.

They danced around each other, the only thing connecting them was the tips of their fingers, skating over each other as they leisurely made their way in a circle. It wasn’t the first time they had played this part, and Keith knew it wouldn’t be the last. He was so well trained in it that when Lance faltered slightly, he was right there to pick him back up again.

“Why the masquerade?” Keith asked when they drifted close enough that he could murmur it in a low voice, not at risk of being overheard.

Lance grinned, lips tugging up on the part of his face that was uncovered. “You look good in a suit.”

“You could have gotten me in a suit in quite literally any other venue.”

The grin slipped. “Maybe I just wanted something nice.” Lance didn’t give Keith a chance to reply before the grin was returning. “Besides, you love dancing.”

“I despise dancing,” Keith said, feinting with the truth.

Now, when Keith said he despised dancing, he despised dancing with anyone but Lance. When they had been in space, Allura had gotten it into her head one day that they all needed to know how to waltz, in case they ever ended up in some formal setting with aliens about some alliance or something and they needed to attend a ceremony. The exact details had been lost to the passing of time, but Lance had been thrilled about the lesson, and, well, Keith was thrilled to see Lance thrilled.

Even then, everything he did was for him.

But they had learned, in the emptiness of the castleship, every step to every waltz that Allura had known. And that was the first time Keith realized he might be in love with Lance.

The way he moved, it was like his sole purpose in life was to dance like he was. It had seemed nothing like his fighting—that was harsh and powerful, calculated and even, but Lance danced with elegance and poise. It would take Keith some time to learn that Lance’s ferocity came in many different forms, and that one of them was dance.

Because the way Lance danced was like no other, and Keith would dance with him forever if it meant being there with him, watching him.

Because Lance danced like he loved.

And Keith loved Lance more than life.

Keith felt Lance’s eyes tracking him, and he looked up from his feet to find two ocean blue eyes locked on his. He met Lance’s gaze, felt the want and love in it, and his chest constricted once more. They never once broke eye contact, even as Lance finally linked their fingers together and pulled him in just to spin him out again. Keith caught a whiff of ocean on him, and briefly wondered if Lance had been out to the sea recently, if he had been back to Varadero.

One song faded into the next as Lance tugged him close, pinning their hands in between their chests.

“Hello.”

“Hello.”

“Did I tell you how good you looked tonight?”

Lance smiled. “As a matter of fact, no you did not, so feel free to shower me in compliments.”

Keith ignored the humor in his statement. “You look stunning,” he said softly, and the uncovered part of Lance’s face tinted a soft pink.

“Are you trying to get me to combust?”

“A little. I can’t help it if it’s the truth.”

Lance leant in until their foreheads connected. “You look pretty damn good too.”

“Now I’m wishing we weren’t wearing these stupid masks because I’d really like to kiss you.”

“In due time, my love, in due time.”

Lance stepped back and instantly Keith felt colder, wishing they could have stayed like that forever.

But Lance chose a masquerade ball, and damn if he wasn’t going to take advantage of that.

Keith figured they were about to launch into another complicated waltz, but Lance just spun him close again, until Keith’s back was pressed up against Lance’s chest and they were swaying with Lance’s arms wrapped around him.

“Aren’t we supposed to be fancy dancing?” Keith asked. “If you wanted to dance like this, you could have picked somewhere else.”

Lance hummed. “Nobody here cares. They’re all just here for someone else, and tonight, that someone is you.” The taller boy bent down as he said it, breathing the words directly into Keith’s ear. He shivered.

“Lance,” he whined.

“Yes, my love?”

Keith couldn’t form the words with his mouth, pressing back against Lance, trying to soak in the warmth of the other boy, trying to once more memorize every part of him.

“Use your words, love.”

Keith swallowed. He’d never really been good with expressing himself, not in the way Lance was. But here he was, stubborn as ever, and just rocked to the beat with Lance, hoping that would be enough. Lance filled in the blanks—incorrectly, Keith would protest—for himself. “I see, I see. You’re only here for my body tonight.”

Keith turned his head to glare at him, and found Lance sporting a cheeky grin. “You know that’s not true.”

“I know love, you’re really here because you miss me.”

There was no response Keith could give to that, not without breaking down on the spot. Lance seemed to realize what he said as well, as his face softened, and he angled his head closer to Keith’s.

“I miss you too, you know. Every damn day that we’re apart.”

“It’s not fair,” Keith whispered, avoiding Lance’s gaze and trying desperately not to cry. “It’s not fucking fair.”

Lance squeezed him with his full body. “I know, love. None of this is fair.”

They swayed in silence for a moment, both unable to speak around the hurt they each carried. “But we’re here now. And we’ve got tonight. So let’s not waste it on the sorrows of tomorrow, love.”

Keith nodded, still not trusting himself to speak, and Lance tucked his cheek against the crook of Keith’s neck and they stayed like that, swaying to the beat of the music, neither saying a word but simply soaking up the other’s presence.

A more upbeat song began, and Keith could practically feel Lance’s grin etched into his skin as he spun him out once more, and he led them into a fast two step. Keith felt his own grin growing, and when his mask began to slip down, he didn’t bother to try and push it back up again. There was no way he was letting go of Lance now.

As they danced, the cuffs of Keith’s jacket began to ride up, and he couldn’t stop himself as he glanced down at the watch he wore, stumbling when he noticed the time.

Oh god, the time.

“Lance,” he hissed, and Lance’s movements faltered.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and Keith thought he heard just a bit of panic in his voice. “Are we out of time?”

Keith shook his head. “Not yet. But we’ve spent quite a lot of it dancing.”

Understanding dawned on Lance’s face. “Why don’t we grab a drink?”

They made their way across the ballroom floor, managing to avoid all of the grabbing hands this time.

A long table was set up on the opposite side from the orchestra, so the music was slightly dimmer when they each took a cup of something fizzy. A single sip had Keith spitting it out, coughing on it as Lance rubbed circles into his back.

“Why do I always forget?” he managed to ask once he could breathe again.

Lance shrugged. “Maybe you spend too long away?”

Keith ignored the subtle barb. “You’d think I’d know by now that none of this stuff is ever okay for me, but I guess not.”

Lance sipped at his own drink, not suffering from any of the same problems.

They each stood there, Keith watching Lance, Lance watching the crowd. He yearned for Lance to look at him, to feel the ocean blue eyes travelling over his face, marking his as Lance’s, but these times were always so much harder for Lance. Keith wouldn’t make him look at him if it was too painful to do so.

“What’s it like?”

Keith didn’t need him to clarify his vague question. “Not much has changed. The rebuilding is nearly done, which I’m glad to see since it’s taken forever. The coalition is still going strong. Allura is off in space again, doing whatever her princess duties are. Pidge and Hunk have both been promoted to intelligence, and I don’t see them all that much anymore, with all their secret computer stuff.” A small smile graced Lance’s lips, and Keith took it as a sign to continue. “Shiro has been doing great with the Atlas. They’ve made some great improvements, and rumor has it that he’ll be leading a mission out into space with it soon.”

The smile disappeared. “Will you be going with it?”

There. There was the topic that Keith had been trying to avoid, and like an idiot, had led himself right into it. “I don’t know yet.” Lance set down his cup, and Keith hastened to add more information. “Even if I do, I’ll still be able to visit you.”

“That’s good,” Lance said tightly. Keith took a cautious step closer, and when Lance didn’t step away, took one of his hands in his own. He traced his thumb over Lance’s knuckles, just like Lance did to him, and Lance’s shoulder’s caved in just as Keith leaned his head against his bicep.

“This won’t be like this forever.”

“Keith…”

“It won’t. Someday, I’ll be here with you, full time. And then we don’t have to have these painful conversations. Hell, maybe by then I’ll even be able to tolerate the refreshments.”

Lance chuckled. “Don’t join me before it’s time. You have to promise me.”

“I promise,” Keith lied.

With his other hand, Lance reached up to twine his fingers through Keith’s hair. Keith sighed into the touch, leaning back until he could see Lance’s face.

“What do you say we do some more dancing,” he offered, and Lance just smiled sadly.

“I think I’ve got a better idea.”

Keith couldn’t help the huskiness that entered his voice. “Got your eye on a particular shady alcove?”

“Better than that,” Lance murmured, pulling Keith in to press a soft kiss to his temple before taking him by the hand and leading him along the edges of the room, towards the doors that Keith originally had entered from. For a flash of an instant, Keith thought he saw a head of sandy brown hair and wire frame glasses, but Lance was too busy tugging him along to allow for more than just a brief look.

Once they were back into the hallway—still lit by the weirdly fancy lamps—Lance immediately pulled him into an embrace. Keith expected to be kissed, but instead Lance just hugged him, and after a beat, Keith hugged him back, winding his arms around Lance’s waist and burying his nose into Lance’s collarbone, breathing in deeply, trying to etch the smell of him into his brain.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Lance whispered, voice choked, and those five simple words shatter the last of Keith’s resolve.

Tears, quiet and salty, slip down his cheeks, tracking marks towards his mouth. Some of them pool at the bottom of his mask and he wants nothing more than to just rip the damned thing off.

“I’ve missed you too,” Keith replied, and Lance’s body shudders against his, and Keith can vaguely feel tears making his hair wet. “Every day that I wake up and you’re not there—”

Lance squeezed him tighter, causing Keith to cry harder.

“Hey, what’d we say about leaving the sorrows until tomorrow, huh?” Keith knew he was trying to make light of it, but the humor is gone from his voice, filled with nothing but pained longing. It echoes what Keith feels.

He pulled back, not far enough that he’s out of Lance’s grasp, and tugged his mask away from his face. He felt his hair pop up from the static the velvet left in its wake, and Lance watched him with something unreadable in his eyes. His hands were still planted around Keith’s waist, so Keith dropped his own mask to the floor before reaching up to gently take off Lance’s. Lance watches him do it, fingers tightening on his waist when Keith’s fingers brush across his cheekbone. Light fingers trace over the scar that should have been there from their final battle with Haggar, though time had long erased it. Only once the mask is entirely out of the way does Keith lean up to kiss Lance, Lance meeting him in the middle. It’s harder than he intended, nothing like the soft, loving kisses they used to share, but he’s desperately trying to convey everything he lacks the words for. Lance kissed back just as fiercely, mouth moving firmly against Keith’s. Keith groaned when Lance nipped at his lower lip, Lance’s hands digging in to the point where it’s almost painful that only serves the purpose of forcing Keith to arch into him.

“I thought you said it wasn’t an alcove,” Keith murmurs against Lance’s mouth, having broken the kiss to take a deep inhale.

Lance blinked slowly at him, seeming to come back to the present moment. It took some time before Keith’s words reach his brain (to be fair, Keith is currently marking his way down Lance’s neck), but when they do, Lance grinned like the cat that just got the cream.

“Only the best for you my dear,” he purred, and Keith felt warmth pooling low in his gut as Lance linked their fingers together and begins to draw him further into the shadows.

In any other circumstance, Keith would be concerned about entering a shady place with none of his armor and none of his wits about him, but with Lance, all of that disappears. With Lance, nothing else matters.

Because Keith loved like he fought.

Lance told him that once, when they lay sweaty and panting on the training mats, having both exerted themselves first in fighting, and then in fucking. Keith didn’t get it at first, and Lance had just repeated it with a soft smile. At the time, he was too blissed to give it much mind, but that night, as Lance curled up next to him fast asleep, it was the only thing Keith could think about.

How could someone love like they fought?

It wasn’t until Lance suddenly wasn’t there anymore that Keith understood what he meant. He fought with power, fully focused on one thing and one thing only, his blade an extension of his arm and his mind already predicting where he needed to strike next.

He fought like nothing else mattered.

Shiro had been the one to explain it to him, when he was out of form and hurting from more than one blow he had let slip past his guard.

It hadn’t been right in those months, when he couldn’t fight and he couldn’t love.

Because he loved Lance, and nothing else mattered.

Lance was still walking, still guiding them through the darkness, but this time it was Keith stopping him, pulling on his hand until Lance got the message and took a step towards him, just close enough that Keith could close the distance and press a kiss to his lips.

Lance loved like he danced, but Keith loved like he fought.

This kiss was softer than the last, but not even close to the softest they’ve ever shared. It was pleading but apologetic, remorseful but promising. It was all the things he couldn’t say in the months they were apart, and Lance uttered his own apologies with his lips.

When they pulled back, Keith felt like he was on the verge of tears again, and he refused to even consider how much time they had left.

Lance didn’t say anything as he relinked their fingers, matching Keith step for step instead of guiding him. They rounded a corner, coming across an innately carved door that Keith would have liked to stop and view, but it was clear from the way that Lance pushed right past it that he had other things on his mind.

Keith was inclined to agree, as when the door shut Lance was pinning him up against it, bringing his mouth to Keith’s and kissing like this was the last time they’d be able to.

Keith tried to ignore that possibility.

It wasn’t hard to forget about everything else, not when Lance’s mouth was leaving his and travelling across his jaw, moving all the way up to his earlobe, which he sucked into his mouth before biting down gently on it.

The moan that slipped out only encouraged Lance further, and Keith was glad that Lance’s body weight was keeping him where he was, since his knees were threatening to give out.

“The things you do to me,” Lance murmured, hot air going directly into his ear, and Keith just sagged further down the wall, a noise at the back of his throat the only answer he was able to give.

Lance made his way back up to his mouth, and Keith wondered how he would be kissed this time.

A gentle, closed mouth kiss gave him his answer. Keith kissed back, letting Lance set the pace, just like he always did. These moments meant more to Lance than to Keith, or so he liked to claim.

But they both knew exactly how much they needed each other.

Keith’s hands wandered up to Lance’s hair, soft brown locks slipping easily between his fingers and Keith tugged gently on them.

He could have stayed here forever, kissing Lance like this, but forever wasn’t meant for them.

Lance got the message—he always did—and slowly removed himself from Keith, to which Keith sucked in a ragged breath.

“Do you have any idea the power you’ve got over me?”

Lance shrugged, noncommittal. “I’ve got a vague idea. People say I can be quite charming.”

A smile quirked his lips as Lance backed away from him, expression perfectly neutral, even though Keith knew exactly how much of a struggle it was for him to keep that face.

Keith prowled after him on soft footsteps, too many years spent in the Blade to let him walk any other way. “Hmm, I don’t know about charming. Alluring, maybe, until you open your mouth. Adorable, once you do.”

Lance had stopped backing up, carefully calm face giving way to the genuine smile that made Keith fall so deeply for him. “Shut up, you dork,” Lance chuckled, meaning the opposite of what you said.

Keith took his time catching up to him, trying very hard not to think about the time. “You know, once I even heard a girl say you were mysterious. I laughed so hard I nearly peed myself. There’s no more mystery to you than a poorly written fanfiction.”

“I can be mysterious.”

“Can you now?”

“I very can. In fact, I bet you have no idea what I’m planning.”

Keith snorted. “I can see the lube on the bedside table.”

“That’s there for decoration.”

Keith cringed, despite himself. “I certainly hope it isn’t. You remember…”

Lance shuddered, joking forgotten. “Yeah, a little too well.”

It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out why Lance had stopped, even though it became clearer as Keith approached. Lance was at the edge of a bed, holding something behind his back, the faint light from the hall the only thing lighting the room. But it was enough, and his Galra heritage provided the rest.

“Whatcha got there?”

Lance answered him by bringing the mystery object out in front of him. A bouquet of flowers was being gripped in one tan hand, the other finding its way to Keith’s belt loops, guiding him forward. “These are for you,” Lance murmured, ducking down to place a kiss on his temple.

Keith took them in his free hand (the other one was now occupied with holding Lance close to him), and brought them up to his nose to sniff.

He sneezed twice, in rapid succession, which sent Lance into a fit of giggles. “God, you’re adorable,” he said in between gasps for air.

“Fuck off,” Keith murmured, though it had no conviction to it. He traced his thumb over the edge of the paper, admiring the flowers even in the dim lighting. He set them down next to the lube, and then spun around, and, in one smooth move, pulled both him and Lance down onto the bed, Lance landing atop him with a muffled gasp.

“Easy there, love. I’m heavier than I look.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Lance wiggled, and Keith was confused as to what was happening until Lance got a free hand up and flicked him on the nose.

“Hey!”

“You called me a twig.”

“I did not!”

“It was implied.”

“Just shut up and kiss me please.”

Lance did.

He kissed him, chaste and sweet, just like the first time they had done so. Lance had his full body weight on Keith, not that he would have it any other way. Slim fingers traveled up to his jaw, cupping it while also angling his head to allow Lance deeper access without changing the intensity of the kiss.

A tongue swept into his mouth, and Keith nearly whined. Hard and fast was one thing, and mainly Lance’s thing, but it was moments like these that broke Keith like no other. In moments like these, Keith would offer Lance the entire universe on a silver platter if he asked him to. In moments like these, Keith knew what it was like to love like you dance, love like you fought.

Love like nothing else mattered, not life or death or the space in between.

Love like Keith loved Lance.

Lance broke away, panting, but not moving at all, other than just an inch further from Keith’s mouth.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

It was slow, and it was just right. Lance kissed him until both of their lips were swollen and painful, and then he rocked back until he was straddling Keith, sitting up and shouldering his way out of his suit jacket. His tie followed, and he moved to unbutton his shirt before Keith stopped him with a single hand to his forearm.

Lance shifted closer, now more on his stomach than his lap, and Keith undid each button, pausing after each one to trail a finger down the exposed tan flesh. He mapped out all the places where Lance’s scars should have been, pressed his pointer finger into the absent divot just below his left pec. Lance shuddered, and Keith pressed harder.

“You know, I never thought I’d miss your scars.”

“I never thought I would either.”

Keith continued to unbutton his shirt, pulling it out of his waistband to be able to do the final few buttons.

Once they were all undone, he inhaled slowly, drinking in the image in front of him: Lance, with his chest heaving with constraint, nipples peaked and tan skin smooth, white shirt providing a sharp contrast against the rest of him, the rest of the darkened bedroom.

“You’re beautiful.”

Keith sucked in a sharp breath. “If anyone is the beauty here, it’s you.”

Light fingers danced over his cheek, and Keith turned his head into them. Said fingers traced along his scar, leaving white circles in their wake when Lance pressed too hard in certain spots.

“I’ve never met someone quite as beautiful as you.”

The air left his lungs at the sincerity of Lance’s words, and it was all Keith could do to cling to him, one hand on his hip and the other on the wrist next to his face.

“Lance…”

“I know love. I know.”

Those same fingers that Keith longed for every day skated across him chest now, trailing down his own set of buttons. His suit jacket was still on, but Lance didn’t seem to notice as he undid his buttons, in a similar fashion to the way Keith had done so. Slim fingers flicked at his nipples, causing Keith to hiss, warmth pooling low in his gut. Lance was still situated over his stomach, away from the more awake part of Keith, but also directly on the last few buttons.

Lance shifted back, and Keith thought he saw the traces of a teasing smirk right before Lance pressed his ass directly on Keith’s cock.

Keith bit his lip, trying to hold back an embarrassing noise as his eyes threatened to roll up into his head, and yeah, that smirk was definitely there.

“Tease,” Keith grit out, and Lance responded by rocking his hips just so. Keith’s jaw was trembling now, and Lance laughed, low and beautiful.

“You adore me.”

“Yeah. I do.”

Another soft kiss to his lips as Lance undid the last of the buttons. His shirt and jacket were pushed off his shoulders, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. Keith sat up, suddenly grateful for every single workout he had ever done when Lance stuttered out a breath, removing his clothes the rest of the way off his upper body, before those damned fingers came to rest on his abs.

“I forgot about these,” Lance murmured, and Keith groaned and Lance trailed his hands lower and lower.

He settled back down, jolting Lance, who angled his own hips lower and then rolled them. They both let out a noise of approval, Lance having maneuver perfectly so that their cocks lined up every time he ground down on Keith.

“The things you do to me, Kogane,” Lance said with a low laugh, eyes bright in the darkness.

Keith leaned up, carding his fingers once more in Lance’s hair, and pressed a kiss to the hollow of his neck, sucking at it and the running over the spot with his tongue. Lance rocked into him again, and Keith moved to a different spot.

The friction was just on the edge of perfect. It would have been perfect had there been approximately two less layers of clothing between them.

Pressure was slowly building, and Keith was ready to be happy with just this. If this was it for the night, it was more than he could ever say thank you for.

Lance’s movements were picking up speed, and Keith brought one knee up to give him better access. It worked, and Lance moaned at the sensation as their cocks met once more.

“Just…” Keith panted, “just a little more. So close—so close baby.”

And then Lance stopped, sitting up and out of range of Keith’s dick and Keith nearly took the pillow out from under his head and hit Lance with it.

“I want to ride you,” Lance said, breathless, and Keith nearly came.

Lance _never_ bottomed. He was always the one on top, giving it to Keith in the best way possible, and the one time Keith had topped hadn’t been a fun experience for either of them. Well, actually, not a fun experience for Lance. Keith loved all thirty seconds of those blissful thirty seconds that he lasted.

“Are you—are you sure?” Keith didn’t need to look at his watch to know time was not on their side, if it ever had been. “We don’t have that long left, and I want to make it good for you.”

Lance smiled down at him, but there was something sad in his face. “Yeah, love. I want whatever you’ll give me.”

A shuddering breath in, and then Keith was nodding. He reached for the lube, nearly knocking it to the floor but managing to catch it at the last second in trembling fingers.

“Nervous there, babe?”

Keith had never been one for honesty, but, well, there was no one quite like Lance. So for the umpteenth time, his mouth spoke before his brain did, with a soft, “Yeah, a little.”

“I was nervous our first time too.”

“Yeah?”

Lance hummed thoughtfully. “I remember it like it was yesterday.” He spoke it in such a wistful voice that it prompted a short chuckle from Keith. Lance ignored him, lost in his own memories. “We were on the Atlas, after the big fight. You know the one I’m talking about.” Keith did. It was the one where he had killed Sendak. Keith knew the story just as well as Lance did, but he was perfectly content with letting him tell it. “And you had come into my room, shaking from another nightmare. I think that was also the first night you slept in bed with me until the morning, even if you did slip out as soon as the sun had kissed the night goodbye. And the way you had looked at me, like there wasn’t anyone else there, god, I think that’s the moment I knew I wouldn’t love anyone else.”

Keith didn’t notice he was crying until Lance reached out absent mindedly to brush a tear off his cheek. “Oh, don’t cry love, this was supposed to be a happy memory.”

“It is,” Keith said, his voice cracking.

“Then why are you staining the happiness of yesterday with the reality of today?”

The line made him smile, even if his mouth wobbled. “When did you become such a poet?”

“Hush, I’m still telling a story.” Lance paused, looking somewhere above Keith’s head, lines appearing around the corners of his eyes. “I’ll never forget just how tight you were, and that look of pure bliss on your face. I think that might be my favorite memory of all time. But god, was I so worried about not making it good for you. Do you remember the way my hands shook?” Keith shook his head. “Hmm. Well, I remember. My point is, love, that just because I was suave and confident doesn’t mean you have to be.”

Keith frowned. “What was the point of this story?”

Lance paused again. “To inspire you?”

“I don’t think it worked.”

“Well, what will work?”

“How about this?” Keith asked, punctuating his words by unzipping Lance’s fly and using the looseness of his waistline to slip his hands down the back of Lance’s pants, squeezing his ass. Lance arched into the touch, humming.

“Yeah, that might have been better.”

Keith continued to squeeze Lance’s ass as Lance frotted against him once more, and as amazing as this was, Keith had definitely begun to want to fuck Lance, to see his pretty mouth parted as he made these same movements with Keith’s dick up his ass.

Lance got the idea that Keith wanted his pants off—probably because Keith was unsuccessfully trying to take them off with Lance still in his lap—as he hopped off the bed and shoved them off with his underwear in one smooth motion.

Keith’s mouth went dry at the sight. No matter how many times it had been, the sight of Lance naked would never fail to stop his heart. Lance smirked, posing for Keith as he took in the view.

“Like what you see?”

“More than all the stars in the sky.”

Lance squeaked, blushing red. “Dude, your blunt honesty is going to make me combust one of these days.”

Both boys tensed at his word usage, and Keith fought through the pressure building in his chest by standing up and kicking his own pants off. Lance watched him do it, and had they had more time, Keith would have gone slower, teased him until the taller boy was begging for it. But as it was, Keith had seen the time on his watch and he knew that it wouldn’t be long enough if they wanted to talk at all after sex.

So Keith shucked off his pants in a decidedly unsexy manner, nearly tripping as he remembered his shoes and socks were still on. Those came off as well, before they were both tumbling back onto the bed, Lance giggling at something and Keith unable to bat away the feelings of love that were taking hold in his chest.

The bottle of lube nearly got lost in the covers, but Lance found it first, popping open the cap and moving to squirt some on his fingers before Keith stopped him, grabbing his wrist and meeting his eyes.

“Can I?”

Lance’s eyes widened, and he nodded, wordlessly passing the bottle over to Keith. They moved in sync, neither boy needing to communicate what needed to be done as Lance swung one leg up and over Keith, kneeling with Keith’s lower half between his legs, but not quite sitting down. Not yet.

Squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers, Keith reached behind Lance, simply circling his hole as the other boy jerked as the touch, before easing back into it.

“Good boy,” Keith whispered, eyes locked on Lance’s face, which was presently screwed up, mouth agape and eyes shut tight. “Tell me if I need to stop, if you’re in pain or you change your mind.”

Lance nodded, and Keith slowly pressed one finger into him. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he breathed, and Lance let out a whine. “Still good?”

“Still good,” Lance choked out, and Keith used his free hand to rub comforting circles on Lance’s thigh.

“You’re so good for me baby, do you know that?” Lance whined again, but this time, it sounded more akin to pleasure. Keith began to move his finger in and out, slow at first, letting Lance set the pace. It wasn’t long before Lance was rocking back onto his finger, heady pants falling out of that pretty mouth.

“More,” he said, and Keith was more than happy to oblige him. Keith pushed in a second finger, going right up to his second knuckle, and this time it was Keith that was making all the noise, because _fuck_ did Lance look good like that, back arched and spread wide and wanton for him. It was enough that Keith struggled to keep his own hips on the bed, to keep from pressing the head of his dick into Lance’s ass cheek. Lance’s dick had been softening when they had been talking, but now, with two fingers up his ass, it was back to full hardness, dripping precome onto Keith’s stomach.

Lance was now fully fucking himself on Keith’s fingers, and Keith didn’t think he’d ever seen a prettier sight than when Lance cried out, Keith’s fingers having brushed just the right spot inside him.

“Is that what it feels like for you?” Lance panted, and Keith tried and failed to grin up at him, too focused on not coming right then and there before he’d even had a chance to put his dick up Lance’s ass.

“Pretty—pretty much, yeah.”

“Please put your dick inside me. Now.”

“Fuck yes.”

Keith took his fingers out of Lance’s ass, nonchalant at the squelching sound they made as he did so, not caring about the mess he was making as he searched blindly on the bedside table for the condoms he thought he saw earlier. His fingers curled around a small square packaging, and Keith nearly sighed in relief, bringing it up to his mouth and then ripping it open with his teeth.

“That was so hot,” Lance moaned above him, and Keith whimpered, struggling to get the condom on fast enough.

Once it was on, he slicked his cock up with whatever lube was left on his fingers, and then opened the bottle for just a bit more.

It had to be good for Lance.

Because Keith didn’t know how long it would be before they spent another night like this together.

“Easy, baby,” Keith said gruffly, holding the base of his cock as Lance looked behind him, trying to gauge where Keith’s dick was to be able to sink down onto it.

“You’re so tight,” Keith whined as the head of his cock breached the tight ring of muscle. “Fuck oh my god, feels so good fuck me fuck, god Lance, oh my god.” Every word out of his mouth had turned into incoherent babbling, and Keith had to look up at the ceiling to avoid combusting on the spot.

Lance sank all the way down, and began to rise back up when Keith sunk his fingers into his hips. “Just—just I need—gimme a moment. Please.”

Lance shifted slightly, and Keith sank his teeth into his lower lip, biting back a groan. When had he ever made this much noise? Lance’s mouth was by his ear, and he was panting too, making small, needy noises that were driving Keith crazy.

When he thought he was good enough to last for a few minutes, he nodded, and Lance began to move.

It was slow at first, and Lance’s mouth remained by his ear, murmuring sweet nothings into the shell and occasionally nipping at his lobe. “I love you so much this feels so good fuck Keith please don’t stop please please oh right there oh fuck—”

They steadily built up the pace, Keith thrusting into Lance as Lance sank down repeatedly onto his dick. Nothing had ever felt so good before.

“Oh fuck, Keith, I’m close I’m so close, keep hitting that—” Keith thrust up into his particularly hard, Lance’s words cutting off with a groan as Keith managed to reach that spot. “Just a little more, _please love please_.”

With his free hand, Keith reached out and wrapped his hand around Lance’s leaking dick, running his thumb over the head as he thrust up once more into Lance, and that was all it took. Hot fluid spurted out over his fist, and he kept stroking his dick until Lance was nearly crying with overstimulation.

“Just a little more,” Keith ground out, and Lance whimpered in his ear, and that was it for him. A final thrust up into Lance, and he came, stilling as he did so, eyes rolling back into his head as spots danced around his vision.

Both boys breathed heavily, exchanging air more than anything else, as exhaustion seeped into his body.

Gingerly, Keith pulled out of Lance, both boys wincing as he did so, and peeled off the condom before depositing it somewhere on the floor. That wasn’t his problem now.

Lance used the bedcover to wipe away the sticky mess before kicking it to the floor, lifting his arm just enough so that Keith was able to curl into his side.

He was tired enough that he could fall asleep right here, but the time on his watch said that he didn’t have enough minutes to waste on that.

Lance shifted, until they were both on their sides, Keith’s fingers intertwined with Lance’s and pinned between their chests, just like it had been when they were dancing. Their legs tangled under the sheet, and his big blue eyes met Keith’s.

“I had fun dancing with you tonight.”

Keith gave him a small smile. “So did I.”

“I thought you hated dancing.”

“I hate dancing with anyone but you.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you dance like it’s the only thing that matters in life.”

Lance pressed a gentle kiss to Keith’s lips. “The only thing that mattered in life was you.” Keith kissed him back, and they were silent for a long moment when they broke apart, both trying to commit the other to memory.

Lance was the first to break the silence. “How long did it take from you last time?”

Keith squirmed, breaking eye contact to look down at where their bodies faded away under the sheets, tracing the patterns of their legs with his eyes.

“Keith,” Lance said solemnly when Keith refused to answer him. “Please look at me.”

Keith turned back to those blue eyes he had fallen for, now unmistakably filled with sadness.

“Three years,” he whispered hoarsely. Lance’s eyes welled up with tears. Panic filled Keith’s chest, just like every other time Lance cried. “Oh babe, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m so sorry, baby.”

Tears slipped down Lance’s cheeks, none of their hands free to wipe them away, so Keith settled for watching them mark paths down his pretty face.

“Please don’t go,” Lance whispered, voice wobbling and more tears spilling over.

Keith could physically feel his heart breaking. “Lance, I’m so sorry, I can’t—”

“I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” Keith sobbed, unable to hold it back any longer. “I miss you every single day that I have to wake up without you next to me. I miss you so goddamn much, Lance.”

“Then don’t leave me,” Lance said, voice rising but still cracking.

“You know I can’t stay.”

“Please, Keith. Please.”

“Lance, love, I can’t.”

Over Lance’s shoulder, he could see the sun beginning to grace the horizon, the curtain over the window growing lighter with every passing moment.

“Please, Keith. I’m so lonely here. It’s not the same without you.”

Keith choked on a sob. “One day, Lance, and I promise you, I won’t ever have to leave you again.”

“But I need one day to be now.”

“You know I can only stay for the night.”

“Then why do you do it?” Lance shouted, angry, even as his face crumpled. “Why do you do this to us? Torturing us both by allowing these gentle nights, knowing that they only hurt more when you leave?”

“Because I’d rather have the pain in the morning than spend another sixty years without seeing you! Because even if it’s painful, I love you, Lance. I love you so goddamn much that I’m willing to do this, just to see you, just for a night, because a night here, with you, is better than any other night I spend alive!” Keith shouted back at him, angry tears spilling out, Lance still clutching onto his hands.

Lance kissed him then, fierce and passionate, and Keith kissed him back with everything that he had in him.

The light was growing stronger, the warmth of Keith’s watch steadily building on his wrist. They broke away, still in each other’s air, just far enough to talk. “One day, Lance, and I promise you I’ll be yours for more than a night.”

Everything was fading rapidly. Keith barely heard Lance’s last words to him. “I love you, Keith.”

“I love you too, Lance.”

And then he was jolting up in bed, nearly hitting his head on the low hanging ceiling of his bunk, the warmth of the bedsheets he shared with Lance long gone, and only the sterilized smell of the Atlas remained.

Tears were still spilling over his cheeks as he kicked off his sheets, swearing loud and dirty at everything and anything. His free hand fisted the sheet, searching desperately for the body that should have been there.

His other hand was still clutched around the pendant at his neck, his thumb pressed into the grooves etched into the metal. Keith lifted it up, wincing as his thumb throbbed from having been pressed into the etching for so long. Angry red lines mirrored the pattern on the warm metal, and Keith looked at his thumb for a long moment before placing it right back where it was.

His skin was softer, smoother than before. Imperceptible to anyone that didn’t know the cause for it.

The door slid open, and Shiro walked through, white hair bouncing. They stared at each other, and Shiro only nodded once to him. To show him that he was here, if Keith ever needed to speak.

“How long did it take this time?” he asked, voice hoarse from disuse. He took his thumb off the pendant again, holding his arm out so Shiro could read his watch. He swore, low and filthy, much the same way Keith did when he woke up.

“Another six years.”

Keith’s throat bobbed as he swallowed tightly. Fuck. That was the longest yet. He stared up at the roof of his bunk, even though he could feel Shiro’s eyes on him.

“I saw Adam there tonight.” Keith looked over just as Shiro turned away, his jaw working. “He looked just like he did when we left earth the first time. Before all of the Voltron stuff, before the lions and Allura and the war. He looked healthy.” Keith paused, wondering if he should even say the next part. “But he didn’t look happy. I think he’s waiting for you, Shiro.”

“Is he now?” Shiro choked out, with his back to Keith, and Keith regretted saying anything. Any hope that he might have given Shiro was overshadowed by the immense grief that he still carried.

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered.

It was a long moment before Shiro whispered back. “I know.”

They stayed that way, Keith pulling back his arm and placing his thumb back on the pendant that contained a portion of Lance’s ashes, his thumb print etched into the metal. It had been over three years since that mission that Lance didn’t come back from, the mission that was supposed to be an easy in, an easy out. But his bayard had failed him, and Keith was too far away to save him in time. The bullet had caught Lance in the throat, cutting clean through. He had been dead instantly.

Keith never forgave himself for that mission. They were supposed to be a team, they were supposed to look out for each other. Instead, Lance had been laughing at something that Keith had said, hadn’t paid attention, hadn’t gotten his bayard to work properly…

There were too many factors in it to put the blame entirely on Keith, but he carried it with him with every step he took in the living world while Lance drifted through the afterlife, alone and lost.

It shouldn’t have been possible for Keith to visit him at all, but a grieving Coleen had made a device that would let her visit Sam and Pidge and Matt. She hadn’t thought it worked at the time, for the fact that they were still alive and that she didn’t have any remains to use to connect with them. That was the important part—the ashes. There had been nothing left of Adam by the time they had gotten back to Earth.

Keith lightly traced over the grooves. Six years. This one visit had taken another six years, and it would be another six months before he would be able to visit Lance again.

For every moment that he spent in Death, Life had to compensate. And it compensated by giving him more. The longer Keith spent with Lance, the more time on earth he would be given. He would age like everyone else, but he wouldn’t be able to die until he had used up all of his extra years. The longer he spent with Lance on these short nights, the longer he had to wait until he could join him permanently.

Keith closed his eyes, causing a few remaining tears to slip down his cheeks.

 _One day,_ he thought. _One day, when I’ve given enough time to this Earth, I’ll never have to leave you again._

**Author's Note:**

> A good portion of this was written when I was barely coherent with a fever, and the first part of this was written two weeks after major surgery, as I did exactly what my doctor told me not to do, all while jamming out to what spotify called "classical ballet music" with a straight face as I wrote a sex scene. So, yeah.  
> oh also, who caught the total callout to myself? If not, it's the line about shitty fanfiction
> 
> Comments and Kudos make my day, so if you enjoyed it, if you hated it, if you have thoughts that fall somewhere in between, please share them :)
> 
> Come find me @:  
> tumblr: blondeslytherin  
> instagram: blondeslytherine


End file.
